


Going to Arles

by Vera_dAuriac



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anonymity, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Choking, Comeplay, Foot Fetish, Frottage, M/M, Marking, Nicaise (Captive Prince) Lives, Nipple Play, Not Canon Compliant, Overstimulation, Prostitution, Rimming, Service Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 15:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17880329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_dAuriac/pseuds/Vera_dAuriac
Summary: On his way back to Arles, Laurent stops for the night at an inn and makes the acquaintance of a beautiful young man.





	Going to Arles

**Author's Note:**

> This is a huge, non-canon compliant AU in which Laurent’s father and brother do not die, and his uncle abuses neither Laurent or Nicaise. Instead, a 23-year-old Laurent runs into a 16-year-old Nicaise and they have lots of mutually beneficial sex together. Since it’s unclear to me what the age of consent is in the Capri ’verse I’ve decided that since for much of history puberty=age of consent, and in much of the world today 16 is a legally consenting age, and in this fic Laurent feels 16 is consenting, I consider this an entirely consensual story, but I went ahead and marked it Underage in an over abundance of caution, since a lot of people will view anything under 18 as Underage.
> 
> This fic checks off a bunch of boxes on my CPKinkBingo card: Anonymity, Service Kink, Overstimulation, Body Worship, Choking, Comeplay, and Nipple Play. And I might as well go ahead and grab Prostitution for my Free Space while I’m here.
> 
> I don’t own these characters, obviously.

**By Vera d'Auriac**

 

Laurent strolled into what the trader back at the Vaskian camp had assured him was the nicest inn this out of the way Varennean town offered. A quick look around confirmed his suspicion that “nicest” was a relative term. Still it would be an improvement on another night in a tent with Jord. He was, unquestionably, Laurent’s most loyal guard and a good person. But Laurent had grown tired of the man’s snoring on this side adventure, one that Laurent had insisted upon instead of returning directly to Arles. Laurent rarely got out of the capital and from under the gaze of his father and brother. They were both kind to Laurent and more lenient than many people believed they ought to be with a prince. But father was getting old, and until Auguste married and had a son, Laurent was his brother’s heir, and therefore, scrutiny fell heavily on his narrow shoulders. So when Laurent maneuvered to secure himself some free time away from prying eyes, the last thing he desired was to spend his nights in a small tent with a nice man who snored.

This inn, as the trader had rightly informed Laurent, offered more services than just a bed to sleep in and a meal to eat. The front parlor was scattered with young men and women dressed in a provincial attempt to make them look like proper pets. The clothes were skimpy and they had all been painted to one degree or another, but the cloth was cheap and the jewelry all paste. The primary purpose of a pet’s presentation was to exhibit the wealth of the master. All the wares on display here looked like no more than cheap whores, which Laurent supposed made sense, since that was precisely what they were. As uncharacteristically needy as he felt tonight, it appeared as though he would have to rely on his own abilities. At least he would have a bed and his own room, and he would not have to take himself in hand with Jord snoring away a few inches from his face.

Laurent turned to leave, but stopped, the breath rushing out of him. How he had missed seeing the boy in the corner, he did not know, but now he could not break his gaze. It wasn’t so much that the boy was beautiful, although he was, extremely, but what captured Laurent was the frankness of his glare, the way he dared Laurent not to notice him. Back in Arles, he had no pet and rarely took lovers or made use of professional services, so no one ever dared look at him like that, as though offering a direct challenge. But this boy didn’t know him—Laurent and Jord specifically traveling with as little pomp as possible, dressing simply, and giving the owner false names. Is this what Laurent had really wanted when he set off on this adventure with Jord? Had it not merely been to get away with what he could not in Arles, but to interact with someone who would not know him? Laurent needed the bold boy in the corner. And he needed to make him bow through sheer force of will, not because of his position.

“Anything to your liking, dear?” asked the proprietress who had just turned up at his elbow.

“How old is he?” Laurent whispered, nodding at the boy in the corner, who had the temerity to smirk like he knew what Laurent had said.

“Sixteen last month. I know some of them look young, because that’s what customers like, but I’m not some sick pervert. No one in here is under fifteen, I can promise you that.”

Laurent glanced at a girl by the window overlooking the street, and if she’d reached puberty, he would be extremely surprised. Still, the boy with his sharp stare and tumbling brown curls framing a delicate face of creamy smooth skin might be sixteen. Laurent would ask and prod until he was as sure of the truth as he could be without tracking down his mother.

“I want him for the night.”

“The whole night, sir? That’s going to be triple what you’ve paid for the room and dinner.” Once Laurent nodded, she asked, “When should I send him up?”

“Now. Since I’m paying triple, after all. Have him bring my dinner.”

Laurent winked at the boy, who uncurled lanky legs covered in diaphanous blue silk, and stood. The boy laughed and exited through a door on the other side of the room from Laurent.

“That little…. Don’t mind him, sir,” said the proprietress. “He’ll be up in a jiffy.”

Laurent suspected the boy would be up after he had delayed as long as he might without losing his job, just to annoy Laurent. It made Laurent like him all the more. “We shall see.”

When he arrived upstairs, Laurent found his room to be basic—a plain wooden table with two simple chairs in front of a window, several large pillows covered in sturdy fabric scattered around an ample fireplace, and a large bed with well-washed sheets and a cozy blanket. It was nothing fancy, but the inn clearly cared about its reputation for the business that brought in most of its income. Although his travels had left him longing a bit for the comforts of the ridiculous feasts held back at the palace, he would be pleased if his dinner met these same efficient standards as the room. He certainly had no expectation the food would reach the level of exquisiteness as the bedmate he had selected.

The more Laurent thought about the boy, the more he felt stupefied that such a jewel could be stumbled upon out here in the middle of nowhere. Logically, beauty could be born anywhere—he supposed they even managed to occasionally produce beautiful children in Akielos. But this boy had more than beauty. He had intelligence and a fearlessness Laurent had never even witnessed in great generals. And Laurent would have him tonight. He would have the boy on his back, begging to be fucked.

Laurent gave himself a shake. He did not know where this urge to take this boy had come from. Generally speaking, he preferred to be fucked rather than be the one fucking, but his desires were somehow different tonight. This boy was special.

A light but unmistakable tap sounded on Laurent’s door. He threw himself casually on the pile of pillows before the fire and rested his wrist atop the knee of his bent leg. “Come.”

“I’ve been told you’re hungry.”

Laurent looked slowly up, as though he were not especially interested in this message or the person delivering it; court had provided more than ample opportunity in teaching him to school his countenance. So he well knew none of the emotions he truly felt showed on his face. But in truth, the boy’s beauty close up so far surpassed what Laurent had gathered from across the room, Laurent did not know if “beauty” sufficiently covered the boy’s extreme good looks. The eyes were sapphire blue and lined with thick, dark lashes. And his slim frame could be appreciated in nearly every detail at this distance through the gauzy silk. Everything smooth and tight, down to the firm, pink nipples. And his lips—at a distance while he scowled, Laurent had missed their fullness, the bow shape. When Laurent had been a teenager, just hitting puberty not so many years ago, all of Arles had declared him the prettiest boy in a hundred years. None of them had seen this boy, however.

“I am hungry, and for a great many things. Put the tray on the table and pour us both wine and we will talk.”

“Talk?” the boy scoffed, although while following Laurent’s instructions. “Is that something you’re hungry for?”

“As a matter of fact, it is.” Laurent lazily shifted on the pillows so that he might observe the boy going about his work. “I have very long been in the company of one man, who, while quite nice and proficient in many areas, is not a sparkling conversationalist.”

“And you believe I can sparkle for you?”

“I have spent one minute looking at you from across a room, and now another minute speaking to you, and yet I believe that I’m correct in guessing that you, too, are someone who longs for clever conversation.”

“I don’t see how you figured that, but I and the lady of the house get paid the same however you decide we spend tonight, so if you want to talk, I’m not going to stop you.”

The boy turned, and carrying two wine glasses, he joined Laurent on the floor. Laurent took the wine offered him and had a sip before answering. “Well, you will be required to talk as well.”

“My mother complained that I would never shut up, so I should be able to serve this need for you.”

“Speaking of your beloved mother, when did she give birth to you?”

The boy chuckled, and Laurent wondered if the proprietress had warned the boy Laurent might ask. “Well, according to what I told the man who paid to fuck me yesterday, twelve years ago. According to the nice lady who has me lick her senseless once a fortnight, seventeen and a half years ago. She’s very excited for me to turn eighteen, you see.” He laughed again and then took a drink from his glass. “So how old would you like me to be?”

“The age you really are. If I suspect you aren’t telling me the truth, I will throw you out, and neither you nor your mistress will get paid. I assume you don’t want that.”

The boy shrugged. “The fantasy tonight is yours. If the truth is what gets you off, I’ll give it to you—I’m sixteen.”

Laurent nodded. And believed him. “What is your name?”

“Maxence.”

Laurent snorted into his wine. “It is not.”

“How old are you?”

Laurent was about to question this absurd retort, but he suspected the boy was going somewhere with it, and so he answered the question. “Twenty-three.”

“I believe you are twenty-three, _Valery_.”

He said the false name Laurent had provided the proprietress so pointedly Laurent instantly understood his meaning—true age and true name were not the same, and Laurent could take or leave the absurd Maxence, but he would receive no other name. “Very well, Max. Is there anything you wish to tell me while we are still in the conversational portion of the night?”

“You can do anything but leave marks on my body.” Max, as Laurent must call him for lack of any other name, slowly scanned Laurent from toe to crown, his gaze lingering on Laurent’s throat. “As you must know, some skin shows marks more than others, and that skin is prized. New customers don’t like to see me with bite marks and bruises from my last fuck.”

Laurent nodded in complete understanding, but now he longed to suck a line of bruises all the way from Max’s chin to his navel. “How much do you make in a week?”

Max scoffed. “More than a random traveler can pay.”

“Tell me, or you can leave, and I’ll pay you nothing ever.”

Max scrutinized Laurent before naming a figure. Given what Laurent was paying for the night, he supposed it might not be too inflated. “Very good,” Laurent answered. “I’ll keep that in mind. Anything else I should know?”

“I’ll do anything you want. From the looks of you, I can pretty much guarantee whatever you come up with won’t be the oddest request I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, what’s your oddest request?”

Max sighed. “Only boring customers ask that. I didn’t have you pegged as boring.”

Laurent grinned, pleased that the attitude he had spied from the parlor door turned out to be exactly what he got in the bedroom. Was Max always like this? Did it explain the proprietress’s weary sigh? Or was Max tailoring his performance for Laurent? If the latter, he genuinely pitied the other customers who had missed out on this side of Max. “Why don’t you take off my boots? I’ve had a long day of travel.”

Max raised an eyebrow, but he set his glass on the hearth and kneeled at Laurent’s feet. “Hadn’t really pictured you as the foot fetish type, either, but as I say, I’m game for anything.”

“That’s not my fetish,” Laurent purred.

The truth was, Laurent hadn’t fully appreciated what fetish he was indulging until now. Yes, in the parlor he had wondered what it would take for him to bend the lovely boy to his will without the boy knowing he was royalty, but now he saw that he wanted to experience what his father and brother did purely from their commanding auras. He needed a smart man to serve him. Plenty of cooks and maids and stable boys and the rest served him every day, but ministers and aristocrats served his father and Auguste because they desired to put the king and the crown prince’s needs above their own, not merely because of their station, but because they _deserved_ their station. Because no one else alive deserved veneration and servitude as entirely as the two men ruling Vere. Men and women served Auguste because nothing else felt right but to serve him, not because he demanded it or had power over them. They served Auguste for Auguste himself. No one ever did that for Laurent. The only question was if he could experience what it felt like to be genuinely served for his own sake if he was paying for it.

“On second thought, no,” said Laurent, just as Max pulled on the laces. “I have a proposition for you.”

“I can’t wait to hear.”

“I want you to do nothing tonight that you do not wish to do.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s quite simple. I want you. I desire to fuck you. And I will require you to remain in the room all night. But you don’t have to do anything for me, from taking off my boots to bending over, unless you feel that, well, serving me, is what you wish to do. Do not make the money compel you. You will get paid, so long as you do not leave the room.”

“Okay. I was wrong. That is the oddest request I’ve ever gotten.”

***

Nicaise didn’t know what to make of this man. He was gorgeous. Stunning. And his simple clothes were clearly a pretense—his voice and carriage belied a vastly more wealthy and educated man than he pretended to be. For a brief moment, Nicaise wondered if giving his real name to “Valery” might not earn him a real name in return, but the risk wasn’t worth the possible reward. He’d seen other men of means and title stop in here, hoping for a discreet fuck, and he was happy to comply. Why this one made him wonder more, he couldn’t explain, but he had best let it go and get to work. Whatever “work” entailed with him.

The odd part was, Nicaise wanted to be naked with this man he still hated thinking of as Valery. He wanted Valery to fuck him or let Nicaise suck his dick or really anything. All his life, everyone had told him how beautiful he was, and he knew it and believed it. But here was someone more astonishing than he could ever be, and Nicaise had thought there might be some pleasure he could take, or at least give, where this beautiful body was concerned. But now Valery wanted him to do whatever he wanted, including not slipping his slender fingers inside while sucking what must be a glorious dick. Nicaise didn’t know what to do.

So, he retreated to what he did know. Men liked it when he acted like a compliant not-quite-maiden, and Valery seemed to like to talk. Nicaise would talk his ear off, then, while stripping him literally and figuratively.

“Your ideas for the evening sound extremely boring, no matter how odd they might be. I’m taking your boots off whether you like it or not. Your feet probably smell, and there’s not a pump attached to this room for no good reason.”

“There’s a pump? Wait. You’re going to wash my feet?”

Nicaise curled up just a tiny corner of his mouth, practice before the mirror and experience telling him how irresistible he looked when he did so. “What do you think is behind the door in the corner? And, yes, I plan to wash your stinky feet.”

“Why?” Valery asked, the wariness in his tone so thick it seemed to give the single word actual weight.

The real answer was Nicaise wanted any excuse he could find to touch this man, but he obviously couldn’t say, “Oh, because I find you unbelievably attractive, and touching your little toe is better than sitting here not touching you at all.” No, instead he said, “Because if we just sit here, I’m going to nod off, and I don’t want you rolling my sleeping body out of the room and trying to claim I didn’t stay all night as promised.”

“I won’t cheat.” He sipped his wine, and Nicaise watched his throat work as he swallowed. “I don’t want you to, either.”

“Washing your feet is cheating?”

“I suppose not if you really want to. Do you really want to?” Valery leaned forward, and for the first time they touched as he ran his fingers through Nicaise’s hair. Nicaise fought to keep his eyes open and not lean into the touch. He tightened his jaw until his teeth hurt, rather than sigh like he wanted to.

“Truly, it’s better than sitting here just listening to you talk.” As reluctantly as he had ever done anything, Nicaise pulled away from the touch. “I’ll go get the water.”

“You must realize that no matter what you do, I’m not likely to stop talking,” Valery called after Nicaise as he opened the door to the small water closet that did, indeed, include a pump so that customers might clean off the dust of the road or the aftereffects of their time with an employee. Of course, Nicaise understood that Valery would talk his ear off. But he didn’t seem like the type who did it because no one ever listened to them or some similar sob story. No, this Valery was being entirely honest when he’d said earlier that he wanted intelligent conversation. Had that prospect been why Valery had picked him? If so, Valery would be the first person to select Nicaise based on what he could do with his mouth and not mean cocksucking.

And what was most frustrating was how much Nicaise wanted to suck his cock.

Actually, maybe he was onto something. “There’s always a way to get someone to stop talking,” Nicaise called from where he pumped water into a basin.

“Oh? You think you can send me to such heights of ecstasy I won’t be able to speak?”

Nicaise grinned as he picked up the basin, towel, and wash cloth and headed back into the room. “No. When I send you to heights of ecstasy, you won’t be able to shut up.” He set the basin down at Valery’s feet and knelt beside it. “But you wouldn’t be able to talk with my dick in your mouth.”

A moment of recognition flashed over Valery’s face before he smirked. Nicaise had guessed correctly. Anyone as delicate and good-looking as Valery, someone like him, got used in the bedroom more than they did the using. His wouldn’t be the first cock Valery sucked if Valery sucked it. But everything about their encounter thus far led Nicaise to believe if anyone sucked anything tonight, it would be him. Valery wanted what he didn’t typically get, including, apparently, someone who wanted to serve him for the simple pleasure of serving him. Nicaise couldn’t fathom how that was possible. He never wanted to serve anyone, no matter how much he pretended for the sake of customer. But Valery made even him want to serve, to do anything for one so magnificent. How did Valery not have as many servants as a king falling at his feet?

“I suppose when I said we would do whatever you wished, I hadn’t really thought about how you might want to turn things around on me. I am typically more careful about how I phrase propositions.”

Nicaise licked his lips as he began untying Valery’s boots. He also started thinking of having that mouth on his cock and his stomach fluttered. It would be glorious, but he only had tonight with Valery, and he wanted to do everything for this man he possibly could. “I guess I won’t stop you if you find your mouth near my cock, but your feet are even worse than I supposed, so I need to take care of them before we worry about other things.”

Valery reclined, wearing a smirk, and Nicaise quickened his pace. The boots were simple but well-made, and he once more wondered what Valery had come here tonight to conceal. But as long as Nicaise got to be with Valery, he didn’t really care.

Both boots and the stockings beneath removed, Nicaise picked up the cloth and wetted it before cradling first the right foot in his hand. It seemed like a ridiculous thought to have, but Nicaise couldn’t help finding it the most beautiful foot he had ever seen—smooth with a high, elegant arch, straight and even toes. They had been well cared for. Nicaise knew more certainly than ever that Valery hid a life entirely unlike the modest traveler he portrayed. He also cared less now than ever as he washed Valery’s feet, gently but with enough pressure so as not to tickle, just as he had been taught when he came to the inn. When his eyes flickered up Valery’s body, he spotted a bulge at the crotch.

Nicaise rested the left foot he still held on a towel and picked back up the right. Staring Valery in the eye, Nicaise kissed the inside of the ankle, and Valery sank deeper into the pillows. Nicaise moved his lips to the arch and pressed another kiss there. And then one by one beginning with the smallest, he slowly sucked each to into his mouth. By the time he reached the big toe, Valery’s breathing had turned ragged and moans passed through his gorgeous lips. Throughout, Nicaise held his gaze and Valery could never look away.

Before Nicaise could raise the left foot to his mouth and lavish upon it the same attention, Valery pressed it against Nicaise’s erection, curling the toes just enough that Nicaise allowed his own moan to escape his body. He now had to struggle to hold Valery’s gaze, but he desperately did not want to look away first. Resting the foot he still held on his shoulder, he pushed his hands up Valery’s pant leg. He knew his touch often reduced grown men to a quivering mess, but he could not compete with clever toes wrapping around the head of his cock. He whimpered, closed his eyes, and let his chin fall to his chest.

Valery groaned with triumph.

“Come up here,” Valery said.

“What if I don’t want to?” Nicaise whispered to Valery’s ankle.

Valery pushed harder against Nicaise’s cock. “I think you do.”

Nicaise straddled Valery’s legs and crawled up on all fours until their erections met and he rolled their hips together. “Is this what you want?”

Valery sat up and wrapped his arms around Nicaise’s waist. Neither of them could help but move against the other. Nicaise draped his arms over Valery’s shoulders, and once he caught his breath, he threaded his fingers through Valery’s perfect golden locks.

“I want,” Valery began, looking Nicaise in the eye, but he stopped and buried his face in Nicaise’s neck. “I want you to want me. And not because you’re being paid.”

“I think this is proof enough that I genuinely want you,” Nicaise answered, thrusting himself once more against Valery. “How else do you need me to prove it? Shall I put on a show for you? Show you how much I ache for you? How much I’m willing to do for you?”

Valery leaned back, propping himself up with his hands on the floor just behind him. He smirked. “You could give back the money.”

“The lady of the house keeps my cut until the end of the month, so unless you want to come back then or leave me penniless for the time being, that will be a proof too much.” Nicaise tried not to think what he would do if this were not the truth. He needed the money so he might someday finally get out of this place. He wanted Valery, and he would have sex with him for free, but as long as he could get paid for it, too, he wasn’t going to turn that down.

“No, I wouldn’t make you put on a show for me without paying for it,” Valery answered. “Everything costs something. Well then, get on with it.” He jerked his hips up, forcing their erections together again. “Let’s see this show of yours.”

As much as lust might be threatening to overwhelm him, Nicaise knew he would be fine now. This was something he knew how to do, and he knew how good he was at it. He leaned his face over Valery’s pausing just before their lips met so that Valery had to close the final gap. The kiss was slow and wet, and Nicaise couldn’t prevent a sigh when he pulled away. “This should be fun.” With that, he slithered down Valery’s body, pausing to place a gentle kiss on the head of Valery’s cock.

Once removed from Valery, Nicaise crawled quickly to the fireplace. Removing a brick from the bottom of the hearth, he revealed a small cavity containing a handful of oil jars. All the rooms had these little hiding places, designed to not interrupt couples once they reached the floor and to warm the oil. Nicaise took out his favorite, an oil that was thick enough to not run everywhere but never turned sticky instead of slick. He spun around on his knees and gave Valery his wickedest grin. “Let the show begin.”

Nicaise tugged on the ribbon at his left shoulder and then the one on the right, allowing his silky shirt to float down his body to his waist. When he saw how Valery stared at his nipples, Nicaise pulled the stopper out of the jar and dabbed a bit of oil on the pad of his index finger. He slowly circled first one nipple and then the other, leaving them both hard and shiny. Valery’s cock clearly jumped in his pants.

Nicaise rocked back and got his feet under him so that he might stand. His shirt finished falling off him to the floor, and he kicked it free along with his slippers. Valery’s eyes still fixed on him, Nicaise slowly undid the string holding his flowing pants around his slim waist. With a little shimmy of his hips, they fell to the floor, leaving nothing but the cloth that no longer did much to hide his erection. A quick tug removed that, and Nicaise stood before Valery naked.

For several long seconds, he did nothing, allowing Valery to drink in his fill. Then, doing his utmost to keep his eye on Valery, he turned, peeking over his shoulder and smiling at the appreciation for his body written so clearly on Valery’s face. Shuffling back so that he would be at Valery’s feet, Nicaise knelt with his back to Valery. He uncorked the bottle and thoroughly slicked the fingers of his left hand before reaching around and pushing one inside himself.

They moaned together, and Nicaise became painfully aware of his erection, the tip dripping on his stomach. But that would have to wait. He wanted nothing more than to give Valery the show of his life. Although, perhaps Valery would want to watch Nicaise work himself to climax and then spend for him. Nicaise worked his finger more vigorously at the thought so that he might get another inside himself as soon as possible.

“Does this meet with your approval?” Nicaise asked a bit breathlessly as he sank down on his first two fingers.

“Well, you do seem to be enjoying it.”

Nicaise hummed a pleased response. “I want you to fuck me. Just how open do I need to get for you?” He fluttered his eyelashes over his shoulder at Valery.

And Valery took his hint and began undoing his pants. In a moment, he had them pushed over his hips and off, revealing a cock as pretty as everything else about him. Pink and full, glistening at the tip, it was thick enough to feel, but not to hurt, and long enough to touch the magical spot within. Nicaise wanted it inside him. “That should be adequate,” Nicaise said, quirking his lips just a bit.

Valery chuckled and whipped his jacket and shirt off so that he might be as naked as Nicaise. “Why don’t you come up here and we’ll see if it fits?”

Still working his fingers, Nicaise backed bit by bit up Valery’s outstretched legs. Occasionally he would stop and push his fingers in harder and deeper, making himself moan and teasing Valery. But eventually their bodies were nearly pressed together, and he could feel Valery’s breath on his neck. Nicaise held up the jar of oil. “Would you like to do the honors, or shall I?”

“Can you reach it in that position?”

Nicaise scoffed and handed over the oil. “Spill a little into my palm and we’ll just see if I’m flexible enough.”

Valery did as requested, and as he knew would happen, Nicaise had no trouble stretching both hands behind himself, one still busy inside himself, and the other stroking Valery’s cock root to tip with oil. Valery hissed when Nicaise pressed his thumb into the slit. And then Nicaise removed his fingers and wiggled backward, holding Valery’s cock firmly. The tip of Valery’s cock brushed at his entrance and with a deep breath, he sank down on it.

Nicaise lost the ability to think clearly. He was so full, and he let his body fall back against Valery, an incoherent murmur of pleasure seeping through his lips as his head dropped to Valery’s shoulder. Valery embraced him, pulling Nicaise’s back flush to his chest. And then his lips and hands started to roam Nicaise’s body, and he twitched and grew used to having Valery buried deep inside.

When Valery’s fingers traced over Nicaise’s nipples, he could no longer remain still. He rocked his hips slowly, both whimpering and moaning at the lust which had overtaken their bodies. Valery pinched tighter and tighter as though Nicaise’s nipples controlled the motion of his hips. Valery’s grip neared too much, and Nicaise wanted to scream, but instead he lifted up and slammed back down on Valery’s cock, and they both grew louder in their incoherent growls.

“I want to fuck you all night,” Valery said, pulling Nicaise more tightly, possessively against him. “Please say you want that, too.”

Nicaise swiveled his hips, and he heard Valery gasp as he fought to stave off his impending climax just a little longer. Nicaise didn’t want Valery to reach there yet, either, so he stilled his hips, but rubbed his head along the side of Valery’s throat. “I suppose it depends if you can keep getting it up.”

This earned a firm hand around Nicaise’s own throbbing cock. “I can if you can.”

Nicaise, normally in complete control of his body, never allowing a mere customer to overwhelm his good sense, moved without thought. Valery stroked his cock firm and slow, and his hips met the pace of that stroke. And from there, he followed where Valery led. He thrust into Valery’s hand at the same rhythm Valery set with his own thrust.

His thighs raised and lowered him in time with the rise and fall of Valery’s chest against his back. They were in perfect sync with one another, and soon Nicaise’s body trembled. He reached up and behind him, threading his fingers into Valery’s hair. Valery’s free hand once more found his nipple, and the whimper that escaped his lips matched how helpless Nicaise felt.

Without needing to say a word, they both knew how close the other was. Nicaise flailed with his free hand until his fingers sank into Valery’s hip. Panting, moaning, swearing, they held each other and climaxed together.

***

On the rare occasions Laurent took someone to bed, he tended to prefer something slow and gentle. He enjoyed the slow build over losing his senses in a rush of lust and need for another’s body, and yet tonight, he had done the latter.

The boy was magnificent—beautiful, intelligent, and extremely talented in bed. And Laurent was reasonably certain Max had done nothing he did not desire. A wave of satisfaction far beyond mere climax washed over him as he realized Max had given his body because he desired Laurent as a man, nothing more or less.

A part of Laurent could have rested in the nest of pillows holding Max for the remainder of the night, but a surge of possibility hit him when he thought of having Max for an entire night. They should clearly begin by cleaning themselves up a bit. To that end, Laurent released Max’s shrinking and damp cock and offered Max said hand. Without needing any further prompting, Max cradled the hand and began to lick it clean with long strokes of his tongue. If Laurent hadn’t just come so violently, his cock, still nestled in Max, would surely have responded to the clever tongue and warm mouth.

“There’s more on my stomach,” Max said, his lips still tracing Laurent’s fingertips.

“We can’t have that,” Laurent whispered into his ear, and he gently pulled his hand away and gathered Max’s spend on his fingers and brought them back up to be licked clean once more. “As soon as you move, there’s going to be another mess.”

Looking at Laurent over his shoulder, Max quirked an eyebrow up and under the messy brown curls draping his forehead. “And what do you propose I do about that?”

With a quick nip to Max’s shoulder, Laurent lifted him up and off, depositing him face down on the pillows and thick rug. Before Max could roll over or ask Laurent’s intent, Laurent leaned forward and lapped at his spend seeping out of Max and over his thighs. Max gasped and wriggled under Laurent’s tongue, so Laurent took a firm hold on the boy’s hips so that he might lick thighs and ass and fuck Max just a little bit on his tongue.

Max unleashed a gratifying torrent of obscenities, and Laurent found it difficult to stop, even once he’d completed his ostensible task. But he reined himself in, placing a kiss on one small, firm cheek. “All clean. Have you managed to get hard again yet?”

“Yes,” Max answered, writhing his hips. “What about you, old man?”

Laurent chuckled and sat back up. “Getting there.” He took several deep drinks from his wineglass. And then he stopped to admire the beauty before him—slim hips, round ass, smooth and flawless skin. Max was passing through the most trying age with staggering loveliness. He would be beautiful forever, Laurent guessed. “Have you any idea what you look like, stretched out like that? What am I saying? Of course, you do.”

Max’s lips twitched up into a smirk, and Laurent finished his wine, content to have the rest of the bottle on the other side of the room where more could not be easily offered. He did not care to drink to excess on any occasion, maintaining control of his person too vital to him, but he especially did not want anything to dull his senses tonight. He wanted to know what Max desired now.

“I don’t want this to stop,” Max said. “I want you on me, in me, and tasting me all night.”

The words made Laurent’s still aching cock begin to stir in earnest. “You want to give me your body for the night of your own free will?” Laurent asked.

Max rolled over onto his back and spread his legs, his cock, indeed, already to go again. “I give my body in service to you.” He raised a foot and used his toes to flick Laurent’s nipple. “If you’re man enough to take it. I get the feeling you’re used to lying back and being catered to. Do you even know what to do when presented with your own plaything?”

Between these words and the toes working his nipples, Laurent’s cock was entirely hard by the end of this speech. He wanted his hands all over Max’s body, to once more feel the throbbing of Max’s need. And he looked intently at that creamy, delicate throat, and shivered. He spilled some of the oil onto his right hand before leaning over Max. “Are you really mine? Not the inn’s, but mine?”

The question took Max by surprise, and Laurent could see on the boy’s face the battle between answering what he felt and something clever. Finally, he settled on, “I’ll get back to you.”

Laurent straddled Max’s hips and took both their erections in his oiled hand. Max sighed and tossed his head back, showing even more of his elegant neck. Laurent could resist no longer and wrapped his free hand around Max’s throat. “Are you mine?”

Max trembled under his touch, but whispered, “Yes.”

Deliberately, Laurent stroked them both, his fingers luckily long and slender but strong from years of clutching a sword in practice. His other hand gradually tightened, more giving the hint of what he might do without ever cutting off Max’s air. Sometimes the tease was enough, at least until the moment of crisis.

And so Laurent teased and built and pulled back only to build again, his own urge nearly overwhelming him. He tightened his grip on Max’s throat. “You’re going to dream for the rest of your life about what it felt like to have my cock rubbing against yours.” Max tried to gasp, but Laurent’s grip was now making that difficult. “Still mine?”

Unable to nod or speak, Max licked his lips in response, inflaming Laurent like nothing ever had in his life. His hand on their cocks worked faster and faster and Max’s hips now thrust up into Laurent’s fist, chasing the climax he so desired. The blissful look on Max’s rosy face coupled with his clear desire sent Laurent over the edge.

When Laurent’s spend landed on Max’s cock, his eyes flew open, so blue, lined in paint to make them impossibly big and dark, and that look made Laurent shudder. This seemed enough for Max, and even though Laurent had finished spending, he kept his overstimulated cock gripped firmly against Max’s and tightened his hold on Max’s throat. And Max’s climax proved overpowering. It lasted longer than it took for his come to spurt up onto his chest, and in the end, he clawed Laurent’s hand from their cocks, too spent to endure another second of pleasure that quickly threatened to become pain. Laurent released his throat, and Max coughed and gasped, before eventually settling with a sigh that sounded both contented and stunned.

Knowing what it felt like to be in Max’s place, Laurent stretched out beside him and pulled Max into his arms. They just lay there quietly for several minutes, ignoring the latest mess they had made of each other, enjoying the feeling of skin. But when the wood in the fire popped, breaking the silence, Laurent said, “I’m glad you trusted me.” He kissed the top of Max’s head.

“Let me clean us,” Max whispered. He took the towel he had used earlier to dry Laurent’s feet and now used it to wipe Laurent clean before using it on himself. The basin of water remained nearby, and Laurent washed his hands and then dried them on an unused corner of the towel before Max did the same, then he curled up against a pillow, looking as young as he had at any point since Laurent had set eyes on him. “Now, what can I do for you?”

Laurent leaned over and kissed him gently. And then he kissed him again and again, their mouths wide, tongues dancing between them. “Whatever you want,” Laurent said, breathlessly. “You can do whatever you want.”

“I want to see the look on your face again you just had when you were choking me.”

Laurent kissed him more aggressively now, mind racing for how he could bring so much joy again to Max that it might once more show on his face. He wanted Max, wanted him as his own, wanted him to not have to fight for pleasure. “On the bed,” Laurent breathed into Max’s mouth.

Max stood and offered a hand down to help Laurent up, which he happily took. Laurent bent his head to kiss Max again, and neither wishing to break apart, they slowly groped their way to bed. Once there, Laurent handed Max on to it, where he stretched out under his gaze. Laurent could have stood there for hours, wishing he had paid more attention to his drawing lessons so he might capture the moment, but the urge to taste Max’s skin trumped any other feeling. “So, what I paid for tonight times seven, you say?”

“What?” Max asked, his lovely eyebrow arching up once more.

“If I mark your perfect skin and you can’t work for a week.” Without waiting for Max to respond, Laurent crawled onto the bed and pressed his mouth to the pulse point just under Max’s ear. He kissed and sucked until Max moaned, and he finally released his lips with a gratifying pop. He leaned up on an elbow to examine his work and grinned. “Not bad. But if I’m paying for seven days, I should make the most of my money.”

With a whimper of consent, Laurent moved his lips to the soft, round shoulder and bit. A yelp and a flutter of fingers on his back as Max embraced him encouraged Laurent to bite harder, to lick, and to suck. Then he moved his lips to one of the perfect pink nipples he had longed to taste since he had first seen them peeking through the thin silk shirt. He dragged his lips to the other, but he knew he would never get his fill of these nipples, so he forced himself to release it after a long suck, his tongue dancing across it. And then just to the left of it, he sucked another mark.

And so he continued down this flawless, beautiful body, not trying to mark it, but enhance it by proving to anyone with eyes to see how much he had enjoyed it. He left a bite mark on his stomach just above the line where the downy hair surrounding his cock began. And then he sucked another mark to the inside of his thigh while he held Max’s hips so firmly his fingers must leave their own bruises. Finally, Laurent sat back on his haunches and picked up one of Max’s slender legs and kissed and sucked until the memory of his mouth lay imprinted on the calf.

Max was hard again.

“Where’s the closest oil?” Laurent asked.

“Top drawer of the nightstand,” came Max’s panted reply.

Laurent yanked the drawer open, desperate for what he needed to make Max feel good. Something in the back of his head pointed out that somewhere along the line, he had stopped desiring for Max to serve him, but for him to serve Max instead. He did not care, because he thought, perhaps, they were now actually serving each other, that both of them were giving and getting, and that the best service might be in the getting.

Oil in his grasp, he coated the fingers of his right hand and crawled between Max’s legs. “You really can keep getting it up,” Laurent purred. “Let’s see what I can do about it.”

He lightly circled Max’s entrance as he squirmed gloriously under the touch, and watching him move proved so mesmerizing that Laurent sat looking without moving longer than he had intended. But Max whimpered, and Laurent recalled himself and he pushed one finger inside. It slipped in easily, Max still open from before, but Laurent’s purpose wasn’t to prepare Max for anything—this touch was an end unto itself. He crooked his finger, finding the spot within, and Max mewled like a kitten.

Laurent gasped at the noise and brushed the spot again, producing the same noise and sending spasms through Max’s body. He pushed in a second finger to join the first at that sensitive spot, and Max’s hips thrust up from the mattress as his hands fisted the blankets. Laurent went after the spot again and again until Max’s whines turned to screams that he buried by turning his head and biting the pillow. And then he came with Laurent never touching his cock.

Laurent stilled his fingers and let him rest and catch his breath, but then he pressed again, and Max groaned. “No more. I can’t take anymore.”

“Yes, you can. You can take more from me.” And Laurent rubbed the spot with his fingers again and again, Max whimpering and tearing at the sheets, eventually cursing as he grew hard one more time, and his cock twitched and jumped and finally spasmed once more in orgasm, but with nothing left to spend.

“You’re…,” Max panted, “You’re trying to kill me with pleasure, aren’t you?” Vague, unfocused eyes peered up at Laurent from under dark lashes. “I don’t know if I do trust you anymore.”

This confession was followed by a weak chuckle as Laurent poured oil over his once more erect cock. “But do you still want to see my face when you make me happy?”

Max opened his eyes, and Laurent positioned himself at Max’s entrance.

“No, I can’t take it. I’ll come apart. I’ll scream.”

Laurent leaned down and kissed that perfect bow mouth. “You’ll remember this as the best night of your life.” And he pushed in.

Max did scream and called Laurent some choice names until Laurent covered his mouth with a hand that was immediately bitten, but that didn’t stop Laurent. He thrust into Max, his cock at home in that perfect ass. And he bit his own lip in solidarity with Max as he thrust again. And he clutched Max’s hip, wanting to keep their bodies joined as closely as possible. And when Max whimpered once more, and Laurent feared that tears threatened to spill from his eyes, he spent again within Max and collapsed on top of him.

***

The sun woke Nicaise. His eyes fluttered open, and it took him a moment to gather his senses. He ached, everywhere, but something told him the pain had been worth it. Then he felt the slow rise and fall of a bare chest beside him. When he turned his face up and saw Valery asleep, blond hair covering the pillow, lips slightly parted, Nicaise remembered everything. He smiled.

After Valery had spent that final time inside him, and they had lay motionless for as long as they could stand their sticky bodies. Valery had found the energy to move first, getting them fresh water and towels to clean with, along with the bread and cheese from his forgotten supper. Then they had scooted to the far side of the bed to avoid either of them having to sleep in the puddles of spend or oil. The space had proven tight, but Valery had put an arm around Nicaise and held him close, and soon they were asleep.

Nicaise did not know when Valery intended to leave or if he needed to head out at a certain time. Part of him wanted to watch Valery sleep in the soft sunlight for as long as possible. But another part told him to stop acting like a lovesick boy. This wasn’t him, after all. He was a fearless orphan, who looked after himself, and he needed no one, not even temporarily. Besides, he had what he needed. He had been paid for the night before and now the night was over. He should get back to work, even if he would have cleaning duties for awhile as the bruises and bites faded. He pressed his thumb against a bruise on his hip and shuddered with the memory of Valery’s hands on his body.

Well, he needed to say goodbye to Valery, and he could manage that however he pleased. And even if Valery had no set time to leave, they could not trust to indefinite privacy. Nicaise should say his farewells now. The sheet had fallen to Valery’s waist, so Nicaise had no trouble slipping beneath it to get at Valery’s cock. Of all the variety of acts they had performed the previous night, Nicaise had never had Valery’s cock in his mouth. And now he could think of no better way to wake Valery this morning.

Delicately, Nicaise took all of Valery in his mouth and just held it there for a moment before he slowly started to rub his tongue along it. Valery shifted, but Nicaise did not think he was awake quite yet. He licked more and sucked ever so gently, until Valery began to grow hard. He needed to shift himself now a bit to accommodate Valery’s erection, but he loathed to let any of it out of his mouth. Soon though, it was hitting the back of his throat and he couldn’t breathe. The only choice left him was to start moving his mouth up and down the shaft.

Just as he did, Valery’s hand fell into his hair and he let out a sleepy moan. “Yes. Perfect. Keep it slow.”

Nicaise sighed, happy to have Valery’s touch and approbation, although he reminded himself that he didn’t need approval or affection. But he followed directions, keeping his pace languid, not sucking too hard, but using his tongue as much as possible. He loved the taste of Valery and the weight in his mouth. But neither of them could tolerate this pace indefinitely, and as they work up more, Nicaise sucked harder and Valery’s hand on head insisted on a quicker pace. Soon, too soon for Nicaise, Valery’s hand trembled and clutched tightly at his hair. Valery wanted to pull him off, but Nicaise wouldn’t let Valery take this from him. When Valery understood, he stopped fighting Nicaise and his own orgasm, and he spent in Nicaise’s mouth.

Once he had swallowed it all, Nicaise let Valery’s cock fall from his mouth with a sigh. He peeked out from beneath the sheet with that crooked grin he knew men found irresistible. “Morning.”

Valery chuckled. “Yes, it is morning. And not a bad one at that. May I return the good morning wishes?”

Nicaise felt himself flush a bit, not having expected the offer. The truth was, he still ached from the previous night, and he and his body had no interest in even so tempting an offer as this. “I’m fine.”

Valery brushed the hair from Nicaise’s forehead. “You served me as well as any man could and well earned your money. I…it’s difficult to explain, but I’m…grateful.”

Nicaise shrugged, trying to pretend customers said this sort of thing to him every day. “Well, someone has to be good at their job around here.”

“I suppose that’s true, but why do you stay? You could do better in Arles.”

Nicaise squirmed a bit away from Valery and scooted up the bed, suddenly feeling at a disadvantage lingering around Valery’s crotch. The truth was he longed to go to Arles and get out of this backwater. Like everyone at the inn, he dreamed of being a proper pet—dressed beautifully, covered in jewels, with only one master and always enough food to eat. If he were to ever reach that goal, he knew he couldn’t stay here.

“You think I would like court?”

Valery laughed. “You’re clever, beautiful, and extraordinary at sex. You would _rule_ the court.” Valery flopped down to the bottom of the bed to pluck his shirt from the bench at the end. Once he had it flung over his head, he looked back up at Nicaise. “You would spark the biggest pet bidding war in a century.” He picked up Nicaise’s foot and slowly kissed and licked at the inside of his ankle, until he finished by sucking another mark, and leaving Nicaise a bit breathless. “But only if you wanted to. You could easily find an occupation besides pet.”

“You really think I could make a living with something other than my body?”

Stroking Nicaise’s foot, Valery said, “If all you had to offer was your body, our night would have ended sooner.”

The conversation was making Nicaise uncomfortable, and he wanted to pull away from Valery, but he found he could not. “It’s all very well of you to say that, you know, but I don’t have the money to go to Arles.”

“You haven’t saved? I find that hard to believe.”

Nicaise, of course, had saved, and more than most of the others who worked at the inn. But he also spent a lot on clothes to make himself more attractive to the customers likely to pay the most. In the long run, he knew this was his best strategy, but it would take time. And to do this right, he needed more money than most people would assume, and he wasn’t going to risk leaving before he had it. “Let me rephrase. I have enough money to get to Arles, but not enough to stay somewhere decent if I don’t find the right situation fast.”

Valery nodded and rolled off the bed. He crouched over his two bags and took a money purse from each. “Always split your money when traveling. Anyhow, I need you to play accountant for me.” He tossed the purses on the bed. “Count out what I owe for marking you last night.”

Nicaise sat up and dumped the contents of one of the bags on the bed. There was far more here than necessary to cover the additional expense. He got it sorted into a pile and looked up. Valery had put on pants and was clearly readying to leave.

“Done.”

“Very good. Now, I have four days more on the road, assuming all goes well.”

Nicaise smirked. “Never assume things will go well.”

“Correct. So, let’s say I should plan for an entire week on the road before I reach Arles. How much do you think it will cost me?”

“Are you intending to have more stops like this one?” Nicaise asked, trying to sound sarcastic and not at all jealous.

“No. Assume I will lodge and eat simply.”

Nicaise raised an eyebrow and did a few sums in his head before offering a number.

Valery nodded. “Should round up to be on the safe side. Can you count that out for me?”

Nicaise set to work, piling coins and dumping the second purse while Valery pulled on his boots. When Valery joined him a moment later, he sat carefully on the edge of the bed, so as not to disturb the piles Nicaise had sorted. “There’s what you owe the inn,” Nicaise said, pointing to the stack on the left. “And that’s your traveling money,” he gestured to the center pile. The remainder, the largest pile, spilled over on the right. “And that is what you have left. You must have had a successful business trip.”

Valery smiled and dumped the coins from the large pile in one purse and his traveling money into the other. “You will see that get to your mistress?”

Nicaise nodded and Valery turned and dropped his traveling money into one of his bags. Then once he had both secure, he draped the straps over his shoulders. Nicaise shivered, suddenly cold as he sat naked on the empty bed. Valery saw and knelt on the bed, cupping Nicaise’s cheek before giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

Valery dropped the large money purse in Nicaise’s lap. “You can make a new start anywhere and do anything you like.”

Nicaise looked at the fortune resting on his legs. He really could do anything. He could go to Arles and live somewhere respectable while he looked for a master he might make a good pet. Or he could stay here and open a shop. He could go to Arles and hire tutors to give him the education he always wanted. Valery had given him far more than a bag of money. This couldn’t be real.

“What do you want in return?” Nicaise blurted out.

“I am merely rewarding you for good service. Think about what you want to do, but I really think you would succeed wildly in Arles.”

Unable to think of anything else to say or any other objections to make, Nicaise nodded, and said, “Thank you.”

Valery straightened up and adjusted his bags. “Although, if you are going to pop up in Arles, it would be helpful to know your real name.”

He hesitated, but a bag of money and a new future surely paid for his real name. He cleared his throat and answered, “Nicaise.”

“Nicaise,” Valery nodded. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

Nicaise watched Valery cross to the door, but when his hand reached for the handle, Nicaise nearly shouted, “And what’s your name?”

He turned and smiled, his face an intriguing mystery even when happy. “My name is Laurent.”

Laurent. Nicaise’s mind raced—the name, the pale beauty, the bearing, the money. He’d just spent the night with a prince of Vere.

Laurent chuckled, clearly having seen the realization on Nicaise’s face. “Yes. I very much look forward to seeing you again in Arles.”


End file.
